


all your words in disguise, making me think like you’re mine

by ghostlypup



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, angst (ish), there’s also a wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 07:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20831999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlypup/pseuds/ghostlypup
Summary: His breath hitches, however, when he feels Eliott’s soft lips press lightly to his forehead. It’s barely there; only a mere press which lasts seconds. But it’s enough to stay branded on his skin for hours, days. It rips a heat through him, squeezes his heart too tight.“You’ll always come first, Lucas.”Or, 5 times Lucas and Eliott see other people +1 time they see each other.





	all your words in disguise, making me think like you’re mine

_ What if it’s not meant for me? (Love) _

1.

Lucas watches as Eliott spins in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time that evening. Hearing him hum, Lucas watches as he bites his nail in thought before he finally strips off the jumper.

“I think it’s too casual,” he hears him mumble. “The restaurant he’s taking me to seems super fancy.” Lucas rolls his eyes, because  _of course it is._

“What about a shirt then?” Lucas says back, trying not to linger as his eyes catch on Eliott’s bare chest. He watches as Eliott picks up the shirt from the huge pile of clothes that have formed in Eliott’s room— reds, blues, greens; shirts, t-shirts, jumpers— all of which seem not to be working for Eliott.

_Lucas you have to help me_ Eliott  had texted him earlier that evening. Lucas didn’t really know what he expected, but when he arrived at Eliott’s to see him in a frantic state— he certainly didn’t expect Eliott to tumble out the words  _please help me get ready for this date I have absolutely no clothes and I’m freaking out._

Lucas doesn’t regret coming over. But he regrets how stupidly quick he rushed over to his house— cringing at himself for being so stupidly hopeful.

“Does it look like I’m trying too hard though?” Eliott says as he smooths down fabric. Lucas rolls his eyes at his worried tone. Huffing, Lucas falls back on the bed.

“Eliott,” he exasperates. “I truly don’t think it matters.” Trying his best not to sound too bored, his tries to infuse a slight playful tone into his words.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Lucas replies, leaning up on his forearms. He waves his hand over at Eliott. “You’re you.”

Eliott quirks his eyebrow. “I’m me?”

“Yeah,” Lucas swallows. He doesn’t want to go there, but he mumbles out, “You’ll look good no matter what you wear.”

Eliott looks at him for a while, quizzical. He hates the stupid smirk playing on his lips— hates how he’s given him some sort of satisfaction.

“Whatever— just, what about a shirt and a denim jacket?” He huffs out, standing up and shoving the jacket in Eliott’s hands. He takes it, but his eyes linger on Lucas’. Shrugging it on, he turns and looks at himself.

“I think this works.” Eliott mutters, adjusting himself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He turns around, smiling at Lucas. “Thanks.” He hums in appreciation.

“Ah— hang on,” Lucas walks over to Eliott, bringing his hands up to the flatten down the collar of the jacket which bends upwards. As he does so, his fingers lightly graze over the pale skin on Eliott’s neck. He feels rather than hears the sharp intake of breath from Eliott— feels the way the air grows smaller; feels the way the hairs on his neck raise ever so slightly.

His hands stay clasped in Eliott’s jacket. Lucas doesn’t look away from the spot on his neck— he thinks he may crumble if he looks anywhere else.

It’s on the tip of his tongue.  _You should be getting ready for me._

He bites it down. Lets his limbs fall to his sides as Eliott looks down, and ruffles his hair.

“Stop that.” Lucas grumbles, swatting Eliott’s hand away.

“Never.” Eliott laughs. He picks a small strand stuck to Lucas’ forehead and pushes is gently aside. “Hedgehog.”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Idiot.”

When Eliott texts him later that evening saying he got home safely, and Lucas asked how his date went, he tried not to seem too smug when he gets the reply  _absolutely terrible, to be honest._ So instead he types back a simple  _you’re probably too good for him anyway_ and shuts off his phone— closing his eyes and letting sleep wash over him, hoping to drown the stupid ball of hope fizzing around his stomach.

2.

It was stupid of him really, he thinks in hindsight, telling Yann about his crush. Not only did he know he would go full on overprotective friend mode, but he wasn’t exactly surprised when Yann sent him the number of a guy he thinks Lucas might _really_ like .

_It would be a good idea to get out there_ he pressed,  _it would be a good distraction, a way to get over Eliott_—  as if Lucas wanted to get over him in the first place. He protested, groaned and grumbled about not being in the mood to date— but when Yann said firmly  _you don’t deserve to feel this way, Lucas_ he accepted the number and, with persuasion, set up a date.

Which leaves him here now, sat opposite a lovely guy, actually— friendly and nice, and if Lucas wasn’t so wrapped up in his stupid feelings, would be Lucas’ idea of a perfect date. But for some reason he loves to torture himself, so as he watches the guy, Noah— his name was— opposite him talk animatedly about this new movie he’s fallen in love with— he can’t help but think about Eliott.  _Stupid Eliott._

“ Don’t you think?” His daydream fizzes out as he realises he’s being thrown a question. He stutters a bit, trying to come up with an answer that sounded like he was paying attention.

He realises he’s stalled too long when the Noah throws him a sympathetic smile. “You weren’t listening were you?” Lucas blushes, scratches the back of his head.

“I’m sorry.” He says— and he genuinely is. This guy is too nice for Lucas— he deserves someone who will actually listen to him. “What were you saying?”

Before Noah can speak up again— his phone buzzes. He hesitates to speak, but when Lucas ignores it, nods at him to continue— eyes locked with his so he means it, Noah starts again.

“I just wondered whether you—“ Lucas’ phone buzzes silences him. This time he flips it over and his heart clenches when he sees Eliott’s contact fill up the screen. He goes to apologise but Noah is already there, waving him off with a small smile. “Answer it, it seems important.”

Lucas smiles appreciatively, and answers the call. And it’s Eliott on the other line, but it’s Eliott— who sounds afraid, small.

“Hey? Is everything alright?”

_“__Are you busy?”_ His voice is scratchy coming out from the tinny speaker of his phone. Lucas looks up and the guilt pools in his stomach when he replies, “Not really, no.”

_“__Can you come over?”_ He tries— he really does— to at least contemplate saying no, but when Lucas hears him usher a quiet  _please_—  he’s already standing up from the table, letting Eliott know he’ll be over in 5 minutes.

“I’m really sorry, honestly.” He apologises. “A family emergency came up.” The lie sits sour on his tongue, especially when Noah replies worriedly, “Is everything alright?”

Lucas says it’s fine— and as he’s leaving puts down money to pay for the both of them. He’s sincere when he says  _it’s the least I can do, trust me._ And Noah lets him leave with a bright, reassuring smile, which grates away at Lucas’ conscience. Ignoring it and shoving it down he walks, or more so runs, and gets the next bus to Eliott’s place.

He’s there before he can let his mind wonder, luckily.

The door is open when he arrives. Unlike last time, Lucas is thankful he got here so quickly. Spotting Eliott slumped over the kitchen counter— head in his hands, Lucas walks over quietly. The sharp squeak of the floorboards make his presence known, and Eliott raises his head. Lucas smiles softly as their eyes meet.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’s seen Eliott on better days.

“Hey, what happened?” He says, on the verge of a whisper. The silence of the apartment feels deafening. Lucas walks and stands next to him, brings a hand to gently sooth down Eliott’s back.

“My parents came over,” his voice sounds just as scratchy as it did over the phone. But this time he can also see the red clinging to his eyes. “Starting giving me shit for— I don’t even know. Existing? Said I wasn’t keeping the flat well kept, and that I needed to try harder or whatever.”

Lucas bites his lip, continues to glide his hand across Eliott’s spine reassuringly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He breaths. Gently, he tugs Eliott up and wraps his arms around his tall frame. “Parents can suck sometimes.” Lucas draws back, wipes away what he thinks was a tear that Eliott didn’t want to escape.

“I know. It just sucks that they think they I’m not trying— you know?”

“I do.” Lucas replies. He gently runs his thumb across Eliott’s cheek. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

Eliott shrugs. “I’m better now that you’re here.” His stomach shifts uncomfortably.

_I’m better now that you’re here._

He doesn’t want to think any deeper about what that means. And he never does. Eliott will say words that makes Lucas’ head spin— makes him so dizzy that he needs to sit down. But he’ll never dwell on it, he thinks. He doesn’t want to know what will happen if he does.

“How about we watch a movie, yeah?” He replies gently. Eliott nods.

“Can we cuddle?” Eliott mumbles back. Lucas bites back a smile.

“Of course.”

When they lay in bed, Eliott’s head in Lucas lap—Lucas gently sifting his hand through the strands of his hair— he doesn’t tell Eliott where he was supposed that evening. With the darkness of the room, and with nothing but Eliott’s short breaths and the movie slightly disrupting the silence, he doesn’t think it matters. Especially not when Eliott whispers  stay, please  as Lucas got up, intending to leave to his own bed, his own flat.

Instead he simply wraps around Eliott as they fall asleep, his hands clasping comforting but dangerous around Eliott’s middle. And the way Eliott gently leans back against him, the way he sighs as Lucas sighs, the way he gently presses a feather light but definitely there kiss to his arm— he’s thinks is terrifying, but worth it.

_I’m better now that you’re here._

3.

It’s at times like this where Lucas really needs to learn to start saying no to people.

Or Eliott, specifically.

Because after agreeing to come to this party, after Eliott had pleaded  _we have to go Lucas it will be super fun_,  he now stands in some random corner of a too crowded room, toes numb and tongue fuzzy— and he’s bored. And alone.

When Eliott had said  _we have to go to this party, _Lucas thought that  _we_ meant that they would stay together for at least more than a total of five minutes. Wishful thinking on Lucas’ part. As soon as Lucas had filled his cup with drink— Eliott was gone.

He was left dumbfounded for a minute. But he chugged back the bitter tasting liquid, and forced his way into the sea of people— without Eliott. He tries not to think about how his eyes will sometime skim over the crowd of bodies, eyes trying, desperately, to lock eyes with his.

Lucas stands in the corner of the room— hugging his 7th, or was it 8th? He’s not too sure— drink; sad and sulking. Feeling the effect of the cheap alcohol, which warms him right to his toes, he closes his eyes; tries to focus on the thud of the music, and not the way Eliott swirls around his mind.

He’s not sure what possesses him to open his eyes, but when he does he regrets it.

Because across the room is Eliott, but not just Eliott— Eliott and  someone else.  Someone else that he doesn’t care who—because all he cares about is the fact that it’s not him.

_It’s never him, is it?_

He finishes his drink. The alcohol makes him brave— or stupid, but either way he looks up again, but this time his eyes lock with Eliott’s. And they stay locked as he dances closer to the girl— doesn’t look away as he leans down and pressed their lips together. Doesn’t look away as Eliott presses forward, angling them so they get even closer— something Lucas didn’t think was possible. He doesn’t even tare his eyes away when he feels something inside him start to break.

He feels dizzy— _too warm_ and  _he needs to get out of here._

Rushing outside, he comforts himself in the way the fresh air instantly forces its way into his lungs. He breaths in, and out— with every breath trying to distract from the fact that Eliott didn’t follow him. 

4.

The next morning, Lucas groans as he wakes up— everything in his body begging at him to shut his eyes. His brain feels as if it had been kicked about, ground up into mush and shoved back inside. That’s what he gets for drinking his feelings away, he supposes.

He reaches over and grabs his phone— squinting immediately as the screen blares in his face. Blinking, his stomach drops slightly as he sees he has no new messages from Eliott.

It’s what he expected, but it didn’t hurt any less when his inbox sits there empty, mocking him.

Mika greets him as he pads out into the living room.

“Hey kitten,” he says slightly too loud for Lucas’ liking. He slides over a mug of coffee. “I figured you’d might want this, seeing how late you got back last night.” Lucas gives him a soft smile and thanks him. Sipping it, he savours the way it sparks some sort of life back into him.

That’s when he notices it.

He hums, pointing to the flat white envelope sitting on the kitchen counter. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it got dropped off this morning. It’s for you— seems rather fancy as well,” He picks up the letter and imitates the cursive writing in a posh accent. “Lucas Lallemant.”

Lucas doesn’t have to open it to know what it is, as it suddenly hits him. Tearing it open anyway, the ripping of the paper cuts through his ears.

_You’ve been cordially invited to the wedding of—_

From just a few words, his world flips. As if he’d been standing on a ledge, teetering, until someone finally shoved him off. He knew it was coming; after the divorce, after his dad told him  _it’s time to move on_,  after he’s introduced _Lucas to _ _someone special_.  But for some reason everything kept staying the same and he thought it would be that way, forever. The paper that sits cold and cruel in his hand breaks that.

“Lucas?” He’s crying he realises, as Mika’s voice breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry.” Lucas ushers and gets up, rushing back to his room. The door slams and it hurts his head.

He screws up the letter, throws it against the wall— squeezing his eyes shut. Before he knows it he’s scrambling for his phone, fingers shaking and a numbness starting to sink into his bones. Unlocking it and clicking on Eliott’s contact. He tries to focus on the monotonous ring and not the quick thud that sits uncomfortably in his chest.

_ “Lucas, hey.” _

“Can you come over?” Lucas hates how thick his voice sounds— but also, doesn’t. He wants Eliott with him, but doesn’t think he has the strength to ask, and so hopes Eliott can pick up the slight tremble in his words.

_ “Right now__?”_ _Please, _he doesn’t say. “_Lucas, I-“_ his voice is cut off by a bout of laughter. Girls laughter. “_Lucas I’m sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now._”

“You’re with someone?”

_ “Yeah, but Lucas I can come over after— _ “ Lucas hangs up.

Embarrassment, mainly, fills his bones. It crawls under his skin, because  _Eliott doesn’t care about you as much as you care about him, right?_

He lays down on his bed. Balls up the soft material of his covers in his hands. He wants to yell— go outside and scream until there’s no more breath left in his lungs— but he also just wants to sink further into his bed, and hope somehow it will take him into a slumber long enough to forget everything.

He wakes up when there’s a soft knock at his door. He knows it’s not Mika— Mika doesn’t knock. And Lisa is out of town, so—

“Lucas?” Eliott’s gentle voice fills the silence. Lucas hates how much comfort he immediately finds in it— the way his name rolls of Eliott’s tongue, sweet and tender, covering him like a blanket. He hears the door close softly, shuffling and then feels the bed dip down.

“What are you doing here?” He cringes at how small he sounds.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve come sooner. I realised that the date doesn’t matter and—“

“You didn’t have to.” Eliott stays silent. He wants to turn around, but he doesn’t. Instead he curls into himself further. Eliott stays quiet for a while, and the silence makes Lucas’ skin itch. “I’m fine.” He says.

But then he feels Eliott lay down, feels the way his tentative hand wraps around Lucas’ waist. He stays still, and Eliott takes the opportunity to press his body up against Lucas’. It’s slow, the way Eliott then brings his hand to sooth up and down Lucas’ arm. Lucas has them both locked against his chest, as if somehow he could protect his heart, but Eliott gently grips his hands, slowly draws them away.

Lucas doesn’t want to give in— doesn’t want to let himself fall into Eliott’s comfort. But the way Eliott takes his hand, gently opens it and tangles it with his own, makes him surrender— his insides warm and sweet like honey— and he finally relaxes. Letting Eliott’s hand gently squeeze his own, Lucas lets him bring their bodies closer.

And then he remembers the girl’s laugh, and suddenly Eliott’s body starts burning against his. Lucas forces himself out of Eliott’s arms, flees from the bed. Eliott sits up, eyebrows frowning.

“You need to go, Eliott.” Lucas sighs, back turned to Eliott. He feels Eliott’s hand reach out but he shrugs it off. “Eliott,  please.”

“ Why? Didn’t you want me here?”

“I did! But—“ He tries to scrounge for the right words but nothing comes— so decides to do the only thing he can think of. “Just go back to the girl you were with.”

_Push him away._

“Lucas, that’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” Lucas spins around, anger starting to pool in stomach— red and hot.

“You know you come first, Lucas.” Eliott says it so sincerely that he almost believes it.

He can’t get the girls stupid laugh out his head.

“Why?” He huffs out.

“You know why.” They both look at each other as if they know what’s not being said. The words neither of them want to admit— to scared to fall in the deep end; not knowing whether they’ll float or drown.

“Please go, Eliott.”

The defeated sigh that Eliott breaths wraps tight and uncomfortable around Lucas’ heart.

_He’s giving up, getting tired— moving on.  
_

Lucas doesn’t look up from where he stands— fists clenched so hard that his nails start digging into his skin, sharp and painful. Trying to focus on that, Lucas squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that Eliott and everything will disappear.

His breath hitches, however, when he feels Eliott’s soft lips press lightly to his forehead. It’s barely there; only a mere press which lasts seconds. But it’s enough to stay branded on his skin for hours, days. It rips a heat through him, squeezes his heart too tight.

“You’ll always come first, Lucas.”

5.

The next following days are weird for Lucas. First being, he spends most of his time locked away inside his bedroom, hoping the isolation will help sooth his heavy heart. Loosing track of time and days, Lucas finds comfort in staring at the dents and chips of paint scattered on his wall.

And secondly, he hasn’t heard from Eliott in days. The last he heard from him was a text, that still sits in his phone unanswered— cruel and heavy.

_I miss you._

Lucas looked at it for a total of 5 minutes before he threw his phone to other side of the room, and then buried himself under the covers of his bed.

It’s not until he starts feeling more and more less human that he takes it upon himself to leave the house.

Lucas brings nothing but himself as he steps outside. It’s raining. A shower beats heavy onto the pavement, the sound loud but welcoming to Lucas’ ears, which haven’t heard anything but his own heartbreak over the past few days.

He walks, and walks— welcomes the way the rain soaks through his clothes and onto his skin. Finds euphoria in the way the cold drops that fall onto his face restore some sort of normality back into him. Finds a sort of calm in the way the slight smell of Petrichor reminds him that things might be okay.

Lucas only comes to a stop when he sees Eliott. He stands sheltered against the rain, an umbrella clasped in his hand— and, when Lucas finally sees— a girls hand clasped in his other. He realises it’s Lucille. Lucille,  _his ex._

Suddenly the rain is cold, and his clothes sit tight and suffocating against his skin.

Lucas’ eyes flicker up to Eliott’s and they catch on his. Then he’s watching as Eliott leans over to Lucille, says something in her ear which makes Lucas want to punch the wall next to him, and then watches as Lucille walks away.

Eliott, hesitating, then walks over to where Lucas stands— the rain starting to catch on Eliott’s own hair and skin, no longer guarded by the umbrella.

“You’re completely soaked.” Is the first thing Eliott says, voice deep and gravelly. It throws Lucas off for a second, because it wasn’t exactly what Lucas had expected to hear after days of radio silence. He looks up and watches as the rain catches of the end of Eliott’s eyelashes.

Lucas mumbles back, “So are you.” His voice struggling to break through the cascading shower around him.

Ever so slightly, Eliott steps forward enough to reach his hands out and clasp the flimsy fabric of Lucas’ jacket. Lightly, he runs his finger over the material, and Lucas is anything but helpless to stare at Eliott’s face. He then feels Eliott clasp it tighter, bringing it to wrap around Lucas’ middle.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.” Eliott says, voice quiet, but from the closeness of the two, Lucas hears (or rather feels; Eliott’s warm breath heating up Lucas’ cheeks) every word. Lucas struggles to breath.

Although Lucas is somewhat desperate to yell at Eliott right now, scream in his face, demand answers; he also never wants to say a word— doesn’t want to break the somewhat bubble they seem to have made around themselves. Only Eliott, with just his mere presence, can make Lucas feels so at ease.

“It’s good to see you’re back together with Lucille.” Eliott’s face screws up as Lucas says the words. The anger flashes across his face, and if Lucas wasn’t so petty and angry himself, he would wipe it away with a hug and hand clasped against his cheek.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Eliott replies, tugging on Lucas’ jacket. Lucas jerks at the motion. The pensive look stays on Eliott’s face as he then takes Lucas’ face between his hands. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

His mouth goes dry and suddenly words aren’t an option for Lucas. Simply blinking up at Eliott, lips parted in wonder, Lucas has to fight to not fall over on the spot. But Eliott is there, holding him tighter. Reaching out, Lucas then winds his hands up to hold onto Eliott’s own coat, clutching his hands onto the wet fabric. He starts up at Eliott; blue with a slight bleed of grey blinking back at him.

“Kiss me, then.” Lucas whispers back, hoarse. But Eliott’s shaking his head, a smile tugging at his lips, his nose bumping against Lucas’ own. For a minute he’s scared that Eliott is suddenly going to disappear, leaving Lucas on his own like a sick joke. So he clutches on tighter.

“I can’t.” Eliott replies.

“Lucille?” Lucas whispers. Eliott laughs again and Lucas frowns, not understanding anything.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Eliott ushers. “Lucille has a girlfriend, Lucas.”

“But—“  _Why were you holding hands? Why have you been ignoring me? You want to kiss me?_

_You’ll always come first, Lucas._

Lucas feels dumb and relieved and amazing, so much so that he starts laughing. The comfort that the rain brought him earlier returns but in the form of Eliott. Biting his lip, he softly places his own hands on top of Eliott’s arms. Eliott’s skin is warm and wet against his own.

“Kiss me.” He presses forward but then Eliott’s shaking his head again and Lucas, for all he wants to smash his lips against Eliott’s own, also wants to hit him around the head.  _Shut up and kiss me._

“ I told you, I can’t.” Eliott says, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a sly smile. Frowning, Lucas goes to say  _why—_ “I have to take you on a date first.” He finishes, he hands falling to intertwine his fingers with Lucas’.

“A date?”

“Of course.” Eliott nods, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “I have to do this properly.”

Suddenly, Lucas remembers the crumbled up piece of paper that sits lonely in his room. Biting his lip, he smiles in relief.

“I think I know the perfect place.”

+1

Lucas sits uncomfortable in his cheap suit. His shirt itches and his tie wraps too tight against his neck.

Everything feels wrong around him.

The people, the whimsy flower decorations, his dad clasping hands, whispering  _I do_ with a woman Lucas has only met twice in his life.

The only thing that feels right is Eliott’s hand which sits warm in his; his artist calloused finger running delicately over his thumb. 

Lucas doesn’t cry or clap when they walk down the isle, unlike the woman next to him who wipes annoyingly at her eyes, leaning over to Lucas, whispering  _isn’t it magical?_

Instead he sits angry, but when Eliott tightens his hand, not clapping either— he feels alright. Thrilled, even. 

Eliott, with his own cheap suit (which when he turned up at Lucas’ door wearing— almost knocked the wind out of him) sits comfortably next to him, always making sure to keep his leg firmly against Lucas’.

Later on in the evening, Lucas feels exhausted from making small talk with everyone; people he’s barely met, people he’s never met, and so when Eliott outstretches his hand, saying  _Lucas Lallemant, will you have this dance?_ In the fanciest way possible, Lucas laughs and shakes his head.

“There is no way I’m dancing,” he says. “I refuse.” He sits back, arms crossed.

“You refuse?”

“Mhm.” He nods. Eliott then shrugs his shoulder, puffs out a defeated sigh. Lucas thinks he’s going to walk away, but he quickly comes back and picks Lucas up from his chair.

The obscene squark the leaves Lucas’ mouth has people turning their heads, and Eliott laughs louder as he brings Lucas over to the dance floor— other couples gently swaying to the music scattered around in different corners.

Lucas looks up at Eliott, his eyebrows raised far up on his head. “You did not just do that.” Eliott’s laugh makes him beam, (almost) making Lucas immediately forgive him.

“Dance with me.” Eliott says, hushed. Bringing them together, Eliott gently wraps his arm around Lucas’ back— the other delicately placed on his hand. Fighting back a smile, Lucas (reluctantly) starts to sway as Eliott moves them.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Come on,” Eliott replies, a giggle at the back of his throat. “Isn’t this what weddings are about?”

Lucas arches his brow, shaking his head. Instead of fighting, Eliott’s arms wrapped around his make him feel all glowing and fuzzy inside— and with the music, soothing and sweet in his ears, he lets go. Leans his head on Eliott’s chest, and feels a solace from where he can hear Eliott’s heartbeat— a gentle  _thump, thump._

He feels it, right the way to his toes, and looks up.

“Let’s get out of here.”

They ride Eliott’s bike back. And he laughs and smiles and even tries to bite back a sob— not out of sadness but out of the pure thrill he gets from the wind, that wraps around and runs brisk against his cheek. He feels on top of the world; young, stupid, in love.  So in love,  that he doesn’t care how foolish they look; too young boys jostling around the streets of Paris in fancy suits, laughing and smiling and yelling.

At Lucas’ apartment, although not drunk, Lucas feels giggly. He clings onto Eliott as they climbs the stairs, doesn’t leave his side as they enter his room. Eliott sits down on his bed, and Lucas cheeks physically ache from where they stay plastered to the tops of his cheeks.

Suddenly he’s shy— almost, as he walks forward and stands between Eliott’s legs. Breathing in, he gently runs his hands flat over Eliott’s shirt, smoothing it over his shoulders underneath his jacket. Eliott then shrugs it off, gently throwing it to the floor.

Eliott smiles back at him. 

“So, do I get to kiss you now?” Lucas asks, his voice light and airy.

Playing along, Eliott shrugs and reaches up, fiddling with Lucas’ own tie, before tugging him forward— as if there was anymore space left between them.

“That depends, did you enjoy the date?” Lucas laughs, bright and loud.

And then they’re kissing.

Lucas pushes on Eliott slightly, and Eliott takes the hint, laying down on the bed whilst bringing Lucas down with him. Lucas struggles to continue kissing him, just because every touch he feels makes him want to smile. And the way he feels Eliott’s hand slip underneath his shirt, smoothing up and down his back, makes his whole body light up. Lucas grips on to anything he feels; Eliott’s shoulders, his face, fisting a hand through his hair—just to feel as close to Eliott as possible.

And as Eliott’s tongue grazes Lucas’ own, Lucas giggles slightly and opens his mouth wider. Feeling Eliott push him slightly, Lucas lets him turn them over so he lies on his back, Eliott now hovering over him. Lucas grips the sides of his face, taking in everything about him. Brushing a hand gently to flick back a hair on Lucas’ forehead, Eliott smiles. Mirroring him, Lucas presses a kiss to his lips.

Eliott brushes his nose slightly against Lucas’, which in turn makes Lucas scrunch his nose slightly. Laughing quietly, he brings down Eliott by the neck and attaches their lips again.

“You know,” Lucas’ voice is just above a whisper, later that evening, where Eliott is wrapped around Lucas— legs and everything intertwined. “I kind of wish we met in another universe.” He feels the way Eliott’s hand stills.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe, there is a Lucas and Eliott who weren’t friends first. Who didn’t have to go through all this shit.” Lucas feels Eliott’s small chuckle— syrupy and bright.

“That sounds boring.”

Lucas laughs, and doesn’t think he ever stops.

_Me and you were meant to be (in love)._

**Author's Note:**

> this is inspired by the song don’t delete the kisses by wolf alice!! i hope you enjoyed, this isn’t something i normally write and im lowkey self conshus about posting it but hsuwruej 
> 
> also this is the longest thing i’ve written so i apologise for any mistakes because i hate editing and re reading sjshgejw
> 
> my tumblr is @mauuvelesbian :’)


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